Ten Reasons Dating a Nation Sucks
by Azure Lynx
Summary: A poetic journey through what it would be like to date one of the nations, through ups and downs, quirks and all. Rated T for France, Russia, and maybe Romano. Francee, America, England, Italy, Germany, Russia, China, Japan, Romano, and Canada.
1. Reason Number One: England

**Just a random collection of poetic drabbles that popped into my head. The girls whose point of view this is from are going to remain nameless, and it is ten different girls. However, when a nation repeats, it's still the same girl.**

_**Ten Reasons Dating a Nation Sucks **_

_**And Ten Why It's Amazing**_

**1. He is way too protective, always assuming worst-case-scenario.  
**I love him.

I smile, thinking this, and walk into the restaurant.

He sees me,

Runs up,

A worried look on his face.

I gulp, knowing he's about

To go ballistic.

"Where were you?"

I knew it.

"I was so worried!"

Isn't that obvious?

"I was afraid something had happened to you."

You say that every time.

"What if you had been alone and something bad happened?"

You seem to forget I'm not a delicate princess from your fairytales.

"England, I can take care of myself."

I say,

Rolling my eyes.

"Honestly, when did you start to worry so much?"

He,

Of course,

Ignores my question.

"You're a refined young lady-"

Pssh. Maybe by his standards.

"-who has no need to be alone in such a terrible world."

I sigh,

Try again.

"England,"

I begin,

Hoping he'll listen.

"Yes?" he asks.

I've finally gotten through.

Now's my chance,

My chance to say everything I'm thinking.

"England,

I'm only late

Because my alarm didn't go off.

I am naturally

A late sleeper, and

You asked me to meet you at nine.

I woke up at eight-thirty,

Looked at the clock,

And knew I'd be late.

I wanted to look good for you,

So I took my time.

I figured I'd only be a little late.

And then I came as quickly as I could.

You don't need to worry about me so much.

I took self-defense.

You've seen me

Drive off France

When he grabs at my skirt.

I wish you wouldn't worry,

Because I love you,

And worrying doesn't make anything better.

I can take care of myself.

I know you'd be crushed if

Anything happened to me."

I smile, hoping he understands.

He stands, shocked,

Unaware that this was building inside me.

His lips form a small 'O,'

And he voice the sentiment.

"Oh."

Then he pulls me in close,

Holding me tight,

Hugging me for all I'm worth.

And I smile.

"I'm still going to worry, you know."


	2. Reason Number Two: Russia

**And so our little poetry-fest continues. I felt a little bad for England in the last one. But I supposed he needed to be told somehow.**

_**Ten Reasons Dating a Nation Sucks **_

_**And Ten Why It's Amazing**_

**2. He's a bit too protective the other way, to the point of being almost possessive.**

"Russia,"

I start.

But

He interrupts.

Why shouldn't he?

I've done something awful,

To the man I love,

More than life itself.

He may be a little scary sometimes,

But that's just how he deals.

He is amazing,

And he deserves my whole heart and soul.

But I made a terrible mistake, and I

Guess I should take the punishment.

"You kissed...

Another man?"

The heartbreak and sadness

Are so evident in his face.

"Russia,

Russia,

You know I love you.

It wasn't like that."

He sniffles.

"But you did.

You did kiss another man.

You don't even deny it."

I sigh, trying to put my arms around him,

But he pushes me away.

A tear runs down my cheek.

"Why do you cry?

It is not your heart that is broken."

A pained smile flashes across my face.

Did he really think that?

"Sadistic woman,"

He cries,

But only half-heartedly.

"You enjoy my pain, da?"

I let the tears fall freely now.

I love him

More than words

Could explain.

I had worked so hard,

So, so hard,

To gain his trust,

And now,

Thanks to our beloved Vodka,

It is crumbling before my eyes.

I weep bitter tears.

"Russia...

Ivan, my love,

I love you.

I love you,

You alone,

And I always will,"

I say,

With as much conviction as I could,

Which was very little,

Thanks to my tears.

"I don't want to lose you.

So please,

Let me explain."

He looks at me,

Waiting,

Granting me what I ask.

I reach up to brush a tear from his face,

And he lets me.

That is good, I think.

Maybe.

"I was out.

At the party, at the United Nations.

You did not go.

You said you felt sick.

But you kissed me and told me to have a good time.

You didn't ask me to stay,

You didn't want me to.

You wanted me to have a good time.

So I tried, for you.

But

It went wrong.

I was talking with Poland.

He is kind of like a woman, yes?

Sort of,

Not to be rude.

But we were discussing

Things like clothing.

We both had too much vodka that night.

We were already drunk, if not past there.

Out of the blue,

He leaned down and kissed me.

I was lonely,

I missed you,

So I did nothing.

I wish I had.

Because now you are sad,

Russia,

And it hurts me to see you like this."

Russia smiles a bit,

Seeming to understand,

Producing a pipe from nowhere.

"So it is not your fault, da?"

I sigh in relief.

"No,

Russia.

I would never willingly hurt you."

He continues, smiling broader now.

I feel worried now.

"It is Poland's fault, da?"

I am very worried.

I try to stop him,

But I can't.

I love him too much to use force,

Even though I can't hurt him,

And he just picks me up

And carries me over to the couch.

"You stay here, da?

When I am back we shall eat."

I try to stop him.

"Russia, please-"

He cuts me off.

"No more Vodka related accidents

Anywhere but home."

He turns and walks out the door

And I run to the bedroom,

Praying I won't hear the screams.

"Russia,"

I whisper,

"Why?"

**Poor Poland...but he does sound like a woman. Did the girl in this story sound suitably different? I hope so... Plus, it has kind of a morbid ending...**

**Please review! Reviews are like cookies!**


	3. Reason Number Three: France

**I don't own Hetalia, or France. France is copyright to Himaruya-sensei, and owned by Prussia, because God knows Prussia owns everyone's vital regions.**

_**Ten Reasons Dating a Nation Sucks **_

_**And Ten Why It's Amazing**_

**3. I can't quite tell if he really loves me...**

"Oh, France, isn't this beautiful,"

I ask dreamily.

"Hmm?"

He drags his eyes

Away from the scantily clad American girl

Sitting the next table over.

"Yes,"

He says,

"It is quite beautiful.

But not nearly as beautiful as you,"

He adds with a grin.

I smile,

Blush a little,

As a small voice in my head screams

'He'd say that to the ugliest woman alive,

Just to have her let him in.'

But I squash it down,

Ignore the little tiny bringer of reality,

And take a bite of my baguette.

"I love the serenity of it all,"

I continue.

France is silent,

So I look up,

And find him gone.

I sigh.

He's probably off flirting with our waitress,

Away from my view.

He knows I hate it.

"Ma cherie,"

He asks, sliding back into his seat

After being away for a while.

"Why are you so triste?"

I pause, but decide to plunge right in.

"France,

I think it might be better if we...

You know...

Broke up."

My voice fades to a whisper as I say the last bit.

France looks crestfallen.

"Ma deesse,

Why would you think such a thing?"

I'm beginning to wonder myself, actually.

"There is no other man in this world,

Non, in this _universe_,

Who could appreciate such beauty as you possess."

I blush a little, involuntarily,

Giving a squeak of anger.

"France.

I look in the mirror everyday.

You tell me I am beautiful,

But the face that stares back doesn't lie."

I take a deep breath.

"Plus,

If I was really so beautiful,

Why would you look at all the other girls?

You will touch anyone,

Anything,

Everything.

You have eyes only for me, you say,

As you stare at a passing girl with a poodle.

You flirt endlessly,

Not just with me.

Suitable,

I suppose,

Because I know I can't flirt.

But it hurts, France,

It hurts.

It hurts to love you as much as I do,

And it hurts to not know

If I am worth more than some other girl to you.

It hurts,"

I whisper again.

There are tears running down my cheeks now.

France stands without a word.

"Mon dieu,"

He whispers as he walks away.

"I am not good enough for her."

He turns back.

"I am not good enough for you.

I do not deserve you.

You do not deserve to think what you do of yourself.

You are beautiful.

I mean every word of what I tell you.

But you may let me go.

You never have to think about me again.

But I will not give up."

He turns and walks slowly away.

"France,"

I shout.

He doesn't turn back.

I sigh,

Jump up,

And run after him.

**Yay...I love happy endings! Well, that was kind of happy...**

**I think the girl sounded a bit like England's, but different.**

**Mon dieu means "My God," Ma cherie means "My dear," Ma deesse means "My goddess," and triste means "sad."**

**Don't correct me, please, cuz I know French (except on deesse because I'm pretty sure I spelled it wrong).**


	4. Reason Number Four: America

**I don't own Hetalia, or America. America is copyright to Himaruya-sensei, and owned by Heroes 'R' Us and the International Fangirl Association (IFA). **

_**Ten Reasons Dating a Nation Sucks **_

_**And Ten Why It's Amazing**_

**4. He is too obsessed with himself...and being a hero...and hamburgers...and Tony the alien...and really everything but me.**

"America!"

I call out,

Trouncing happily into his backyard.

He won't care if I show up unexpectedly;

It's just what we do.

"Coming!"

He throws open the back door.

"Yo! What's up?"

He asks,

Smiling with that

Devil-may-care glint

Shining in his eye.

Enough to make me melt.

"Tony's inside,"

He says,

"Hope ya don't mind."

I sigh.

"Of course not,"

I lie.

What am I supposed to say?

How I wish

We could have alone time just once?

How I wonder

If he really loves me

More than a friend?

Or that he forgot

That today

Is my birthday?

OK, maybe I should

At least tell him

That last one.

I mean, he should know...

Right?

But I guess I'll just

Let him figure it out.

I sigh again.

"Why the long face, dudette?"

He asks,

Concern flickering over his features.

He blinks.

"Wait a sec...

Do you think that I

Forgot my own girlfriend's birthday?"

I blink back.

"You mean...

You didn't?"

He laughs.

"No way!

What kinda lousy,

No-good boyfriend would I be

If I forgot your birthday?

The Hero never forgets!

We're going out for dinner

After Tony leaves."

I smile widely.

How could I

Have thought he forgot?

So we sit,

I watch the two play video games.

I don't play,

I don't want to,

Cuz I suck.

But I'm OK just watching.

Tony leaves eventually,

And America grabs my arm,

Pulls me up,

Ties a blindfold over my eyes.

"It's a surprise,"

He says

As I open my mouth.

He knows me too well;

I know him too well.

But maybe,

This once,

He'll surprise me?

But it seems that

I hoped for too much.

I sigh,

Roll my eyes,

As he rips off my blindfold.

"Surprise!"

He shouts,

As I stare at the golden arches.

McDonalds.

Of Course.

I'm so stupid.

So stupid to think,

Maybe just once,

For one day,

He could do something for me.

Abandon his obsessions,

Take me out,

Forget everything but me.

So stupid.

And I keep being stupid;

I walk through the door,

Arm linked with America's,

And we order.

Because

If I'm on such a stupid streak,

I think,

Why not be stupid enough to try to make this work?

**Well, points for persevering, I suppose. Really, America must be an incredibly hard nation to love, even though so many fangirls do. Even I do, not deep fangirlishly, but he's so sweet, and he tries so hard sometimes.**


End file.
